


Fit to Fly

by Heavenward (PreludeInZ)



Series: Thunderbirds Prompts [29]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Drabble, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, sink or swim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-08-26
Packaged: 2018-08-11 05:10:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7877752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PreludeInZ/pseuds/Heavenward





	Fit to Fly

It's one of those rites of passage, the sort no one had warned him about. Maybe they aren't the same for everyone. Maybe Scott's rites of passage are different from Virgil's rites of passage are different from Gordon's.

But he's got that feeling of being on the edge of a precipice, standing on the edge of the carpet in front of his father's desk. Looking down at the line between wool and wood, and knowing it's a fly or fall kind of moment. Or, in his parlance, sink or swim.

Or surface.

"No," he says, in that voice that sounds like it can't be his, because it's saying _no_. He's being pushed and for once he knows he has to push back. "Dad--I...I can't, Dad. Someone'll have to tag in. Scott, maybe or...or Alan. Alan can do it. I've been up for twenty-eight hours and if I hit another wall I won't push past it. I just, I _know_ that. I rolled right from that earthquake out of Chile and out to that downed research sub."

"You're the best we have in the flight module. Virgil's going to _need_ air support. Alan's still in training."

Gordon's not sure if he's not being heard or not being listened to and he swallows, feels hot pressure in his eyes and his arms sagging and his helmet gets heavier in his hand as he shifts his fingers to clench it tighter. "I...Dad, it's not an excuse, I mean I _can't do it_. No one else in the world would clear me to fly right now, I'm only human. I'm scared I'll be a hazard. I'm scared I'll slip up and it'll be...it'll be worse than if I didn't go at all."

There's a long silence, the sort that makes him think of the pressure changing against his ears. He's tired enough that the entire conversation feels wrong, surreal. Gordon Tracy, standing up to Dad. Not on this planet or any other. His ears practically pop when Jeff speaks. "You're sure?"

Oh god. This is the only moment in his life he's ever needed his voice not to fail him. "Yeah. Yes. Yes, sir. I'm not fit to fly."

There's a wave of Jeff's fingers, dismissing him, as his father pulls up a comm line to put in a call to Scott. Gordon manages to make it just outside the door before he drops to bury his face in his knees and his hands in his hair.


End file.
